


Thief

by neptune_scar



Category: B2ST, Beast (Band)
Genre: Adult Content, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, One Shot, originally written in 2010
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-07 01:46:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1880445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neptune_scar/pseuds/neptune_scar





	Thief

Kikwang kind of wishes he could see him.  
  
Of course, he can physically  _see_  him; the raven-haired young man of twenty-three would be considered blind if he could not, for his boyfriend’s skin is merely a finger’s touch away. And the lips ghosting, idly, along Kikwang’s earlobe are closer still. But the other man’s body—despite the fact that it is right there, next to him—appears to be somewhat transparent to Kikwang, taking on the form of something almost illusionary. Kikwang is looking through him to the other side, casting shadows where they ought not to be.  
  
*  
  
“So  _this_  is the Kikwang that’s been stealing all of your time.”  
  
Kikwang had met Yong Junhyung outside of a restaurant, one afternoon, with his boyfriend, Yoon Doojoon. Junhyung was Doojoon’s best friend, and the two were quite close, as Kikwang had come to realize throughout his relationship with the young businessman.  
  
“He’s a really great guy,” Doojoon had told him during the drive to the restaurant. After a rather hectic workweek, he was very much looking forward to meeting up with his good friend, and his eagerness showed through the smile playing at his lips and the relentless tapping of his fingertips upon the steering wheel. This would be the first time that Kikwang had ever met the “famed” Yong Junhyung, and Doojoon could not wait to introduce the two. “He can get a bit moody sometimes, but it never lasts long,” he informed his boyfriend, with a laugh.  
  
Doojoon had long since parked his Mercedes at the rear lot behind the restaurant, and the couple had walked around to wait for Junhyung outside of the building. The change of seasons had brought with it a drop in temperature, and it did not take long for the two to begin shuffling their feet, hands stuffed in their pockets, an attempt to warm themselves up underneath their jackets. When that proved insufficient, Kikwang resorted to huddling against Doojoon, in hopes of using his boyfriend as a heat source. The other man welcomed him in, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s smaller frame.  
  
“Babe, where is he?” Kikwang asked, his voice a bit muffled against the leather of Doojoon’s ebony-coloured jacket.  
  
“Don’t worry. He’ll get here soon, hopefully,” Doojoon told him in the most reassuring voice that he could muster. His eyes did a thorough search of the street, scanning through the stray figures. It was mid-afternoon, and the sun had settled into a comfortable spot, nestled beneath the greying clouds. They had all agreed to meet up a little over half-an-hour ago, at two o’clock, and he was secretly hoping that he did not give Junhyung the incorrect time. “He lives way out on the other end of the city, so the bus might—wait, hold on.”  
  
A frown had taken over Kikwang’s lips, and he wondered what had caught his boyfriend’s attention so suddenly. He looked up a little, catching sight of the other man’s gaze, which was strained upon a spot in the distance, somewhere down the road. Leaving Doojoon’s face, Kikwang decided to join his gaze, squinting to see if he, too, could see what Doojoon had seen.  
  
In the next instant, a broad smile had swept across Doojoon’s features, for he had spotted the person that he was looking for. In response to this, he lifted an arm and started to wave, zealously, calling out, “Junhyung ah!”  
  
And that was when Kikwang had seen him. About less than a block away, he saw someone stop in his tracks and look over towards them. After a moment or so, he waved back and began to make his way over.   
  
He was Doojoon’s height—which, of course, meant that he was still a bit taller than Kikwang was—and his hair was fashioned in a vibrant crimson. The influence of autumn was evident in his choice of clothing, which consisted of a stylish pair of black denim jeans, designer hoodie, and a faded blue denim jacket. Kikwang’s eyes took in the young man standing in front of them, in awe of how different he appeared from the photos that Doojoon had shown him. The Junhyung that he had seen in those photos was an inebriated party animal, whose eyes always seemed to be closed in some sort of drunken reverie. But this Junhyung was staring at him, full-on, with eyes that were intense and unwavering.   
  
And then, as subtle as it was, Kikwang had noticed tiny, rather miniscule, lines begin to tug at the corners of Junhyung’s eyes, and he watched with enchantment as those eyes began to soften into a smile.  
  
“It’s great to finally meet you,” the redhead continued, as he addressed the younger man. He then jerked his head towards his friend before saying, “Doojoon, here, won’t shut up about you.” A slight smirk formed upon his lips, as he gave Kikwang a knowing look. “I see why.”  
  
At this, a slight blush began to tingle across the raven-haired man’s cheeks, despite the chill air that nipped at them. “Thanks,” he said to Junhyung, with a smile.  
  
This caused a rather unceremonious roll of the eyes from Doojoon. “Yeah, well, better than  _stealing_  my copy of ‘Quiksilver,’ Junhyung ah,” he told the other man in a jokingly reprimanding manner.  
  
Junhyung looked over at Doojoon, his face contorted into what Kikwang thought to be some sort of pout. “Hey, come on, man, I told you I’ll give it back. Just give me some time.”  
  
“I’ve given you more than enough.”  
  
“Well, you know what we  _haven’t_  given enough of?” the crimson-haired man had successfully sidestepped the conversation, and he placed a gloved hand on Kikwang’s shoulder; the younger man looked up at him in curiosity. “Some lunch to Kikwang. That’s more important than some random videogame, right, Kikwang ah?” He looked down at him, a warm smile on his features.  
  
Kikwang returned it.  
  
*  
  
Disguised in the most arbitrary tone possible, the query, “How long have you two known each other?” flowed forth from between Kikwang’s lips. He was rested, comfortably, atop one of Doojoon’s leather sofas, amusing himself with the ‘Playstation 3’ that was set up in front of the large plasma screen television against an adjacent wall. His boyfriend owned a rather impressive penthouse condo in the heart of downtown Seoul, the by-product of an equally lucrative job. His place of residence was quite large, so Kikwang opted to stay over once in a while; tonight was one of those instances.  
  
Doojoon had been in the kitchen for the last several minutes, and soon after, the space was filled with the smell of popcorn. Upon hearing the other man’s words, his brow furrowed in slight confusion. “I thought I told you already?”  
  
Almost immediately, Kikwang bit his bottom lip in a sheepish manner. “Sorry!” He called out over the sound of the kitchen cupboards opening and closing. “I guess I forgot.”  
  
To that, Doojoon simply shrugged. “Well,” he paused to dry his hands on a nearby towel before picking up the large bowl of popcorn and walking over to join Kikwang on the sofa, “we met in elementary school.” He set the bowl onto the coffee table in front of them and leaned back into the sofa, wrapping a lazy arm around Kikwang. “We were about ten. It’s a funny story, actually. He was bullying this kid, and I came up to him and said, ‘Hey, you can’t do that!’ and whatever. Then he started bullying me, and... we became friends after.”  
  
Kikwang’s brow scrunched a little after hearing that, but he nodded soon after, accepting the tale. “Oh,” he commented and then reached over to grab some popcorn. “What’s he like?” He asked, again, trying to sound casual.  
  
An amused laugh sounded from Doojoon at Kikwang’s sudden interest in his best friend. The younger man had never displayed such an interest in the past. Normally, if Doojoon were speaking of the redhead, the response he would have received would have been something similar to, ‘Baby, I love you... but please shut up.’  
  
“Well, if you wanna know about him so much, why don’t you find out?” Doojoon suggested. “Call him up. See what he’s up to.” He stretched his other arm out, grabbing for some popcorn. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate the company,” he laughed, once more, before popping some kernels into his mouth.  
  
A quiet smile played upon Kikwang’s lips.  
  
*  
  
“You into music?” Kikwang inquired, as they walked along the busy street. These sidewalks were unfamiliar to him, but Junhyung had traversed them tireless times over; he was native to these parts, after all.  
  
“Yeah,” the redhead answered, casually, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets. “I’m a producer for CUBE. It’s a... ‘fun’ job, I’ll tell you that.”  
  
Kikwang smiled a bit before turning to look at the older man beside him. “Yeah, it seems like you party a lot.”  
  
At this remark, Junhyung tore his gaze away from its spot ahead of them and met Kikwang’s eyes with nothing short of bewilderment.  
  
This caused the raven-haired man to shrink in nervousness, and he stuttered a “I-I mean, like... well, when Doojoon showed me pictures of you—in all of them, you were either passed out or... drunk.”  
  
After hearing this, Junhyung’s countenance relaxed a little, and he let out an amused scoff before shaking his head. “The dick. He never could get my good side,” Junhyung sighed with mock disappointment. “I mean, yeah, I party—who doesn’t? But that’s not all I do. I wish,” the redhead shook his head again. “If anything, I work harder than he does. Unlike his,  _my_  job doesn’t really end. If I’m not in the studio, then I’m working on stuff at home, listening to it before I go to bed, going over it before I leave the next day—I have no life, basically.”  
  
Kikwang watched as a reminiscent smile lit up the other man’s face, leaving behind a charming glow.   
  
“But I love what I do,” Junhyung spoke at last. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”  
  
*  
  
“So what d’you think of him?”  
  
“Babe, he’s so cool!” Kikwang exclaimed over his mobile phone. His feet were busied, as they led him through the expansive shopping mall—but not into any actual stores. He was much too preoccupied to seriously sift through any items. “You never told me that he was a producer!” The young man spoke, excitedly, into the phone as he walked by a clothing store.  
  
A chuckle threatened to escape Doojoon’s throat, but he suppressed it, as he was very much enjoying teasing his younger boyfriend. “Well, you never asked,” he smirked, as he looked through the clothes hanging about in his walk-in closet.  
  
Kikwang couldn’t help but to roll his eyes, a loving “Idiot” sounding from his lips. “So you think that, if your best friend— _of all people_ —knows Eddy J, then I shouldn’t know this?”  
  
Try as hard as he might, that suppressed chuckle had unearthed itself, released in the form of a much louder laugh. Doojoon smiled, as he sat back on the lofty king-sized bed. “I didn’t say you shouldn’t know it.” He shrugged. “I guess it must have just slipped my mind. But, hey, you know,  _now_ , don’t you?”  
  
A smile hung at the edge of Kikwang’s mouth. “Yeah, I guess.”  
  
“And he seems to like you, too,” Doojoon added, conversationally. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure at first ‘cause Junhyung’s really picky about his friends—”  
  
“The hell’s that supposed to mean?” There was a slight tinge of a whine to Kikwang’s protest, as he spoke.  
  
“ _But_ ,” Doojoon continued in a reassuring tone, “he seems to like you—which says a lot. I’m relieved, actually. It’d suck if he hated you, or if you couldn’t stand him. Not that I’d blame you or anything; he can have that effect on people. But I’m glad you guys are cool.” A genuine smile overcame him, as he mused on the thought. “Really... I am.”  
  
*  
  
“Kikwang ah! Over here!”  
  
It was a wonder that the raven-haired man was even able to hear his name being called out over the loud, pulsing beats of the Tonic nightclub—let alone recognize the voice that had called it. But he did, nonetheless, and his eyes searched about, frantically, trying to uncover the source. It was difficult, though, for everywhere that he looked, his vision was clouded with vagrant bodies, coloured lights, and glasses of—was that absinthe? Kikwang could have sworn that the drink was outlawed.  
  
The young man was almost about to give up, until he heard his name being called again. Something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, causing him to turn his head. And as luck would have it, not too far off, he spotted Junhyung waving at him from behind a crowd of dancing women. Kikwang waved back, a bright smile animating his face.  
  
He still couldn’t believe that he was actually at Eddy J’s release party—as in  _the_  Eddy J, one of the most talented artists to come around in a while, in Kikwang’s much-stated opinion. Even well-established critics of the music industry had to agree; “Eddy Jjang,” as some of his fans referred to him as, always spoke the truth, and his lyrics were viewed as works of art. The rapper’s new album was scheduled to be released by the end of next week, and CUBE had thrown a release party for the artist at the elite Tonic nightclub. Junhyung had worked on the album as one of the co-producers and had invited both Doojoon and Kikwang to the exclusive release party as his guests. However, only Kikwang was able to attend the party, seeing as Doojoon was away on a business trip; he was set to return the following day.  
  
“You sure you can’t come?” Kikwang had asked him over the phone that morning.  
  
A sigh could be heard on the other end, followed by a “Sorry, babe, I wish I could. I have to be up the next morning at four-thirty—can you believe it?” He groaned, slightly. “And with Junhyung ah, we wouldn’t leave that place till dawn. When he parties, he parties  _hard_.”  
  
A thought crept its way into Kikwang’s head, and it drew a soft smile from his lips. “Yeah, he does,” he answered, faintly, as he remembered something.  
  
“But—”  
  
“Well, that’s okay!” The raven-haired man’s voice was cheery and upbeat. “I’m sure I’ll have enough fun for the both of us.”  
  
“And I don’t doubt that at all. You and your obsession.”  
  
“It’s called being a fan, Doojoon ah.”  
  
“And, baby, you are a  _dedicated_  one,” Doojoon added with a laugh. Just then, his personal assistant walked into his office, signalling to him that he was needed downstairs at the board meeting, for it was just about to get underway. Doojoon gave a solemn nod to the man before returning to his phone call. Regrettably, he spoke to Kikwang, just as his assistant turned to leave the room. “Well, I gotta go. Duty calls.”  
  
“Yeah,” his boyfriend said, quietly. “Take it easy, ‘kay? Love you.”  
  
“Love you, too.”  
  
“Did you find the place okay?” Junhyung’s voice was loud, as he was trying to compete with the overbearing music of the club. He was standing rather close to Kikwang, but even still, he found himself practically yelling at the younger man.  
  
“Yeah!” Kikwang shouted back, his features lit up with a bright smile. The two were standing quite close to one another, and with the swarm of people around them, they found that they almost had to huddle against each other to prevent themselves from being pushed and shoved apart. Despite the dim lighting, Kikwang could clearly see the intense, worried look in the redhead’s eyes—and Kikwang was quick to assure him. “I followed that route, just like you said. It was really easy! I got here in no time.”  
  
Junhyung had heard all of that, in spite of the noise, and a contented smile had taken over him. “Awesome. And you got here just in time, too.”  
  
The younger man’s eyes widened in surprise, and he even found himself holding his breath, as Junhyung started to lean in closer to him—only to whisper in his ear:  
  
“I want you to meet someone.”  
  
With those words, Kikwang felt Junhyung take him by the hand and lead him from where they were standing towards another room. There was much shoving and bumping, but eventually, the two had arrived at another room in the club that was situated on the upper floor. This one must have been a VIP room, Kikwang had deduced, for it was far less crowded, and its patrons preferred to lounge and take in the atmosphere, wine glasses tucked in their palms, as opposed to dancing in the brazen recesses below.   
  
The young man took a learned glance about the room, until his gaze settled upon an extremely familiar looking man chatting up some people on the far wall. It was only when Kikwang had taken in the man’s distinguishable haircut and signature choice of clothing did he recognize who he was. And then he froze. The man standing, idly, by the wall was none other than Eddy J, himself.  
  
“Holy shit,” Kikwang breathed out.  
  
*  
  
“But I’d never do that, though.”  
  
“Oh, don’t lie,” Kikwang gave a chuckle. “Of course you would.”  
  
“No way!” Junhyung retorted in defence. “Trust me—I’ve got people to do that for me. Why would I waste my time?”  
  
“Because it'd be worth your while.”  
  
An intrigued expression came over the redhead’s face, as he looked upon the younger man. “Really?” He inquired, the corners of his lips curling up in interest. “And how so?”  
  
“Well, think about it,” Kikwang stated. “It's a win-win situation for either of you. All you've gotta do is just do it. To hell with what happens after.”  
  
Junhyung stared back at the raven-haired man with what could only be regarded as disbelief. “Kikwang ah,” he began, rather carefully, “that's the part that matters the most.”  
  
To that, the younger man simply shrugged. “So relax and let it come, then. You can't worry about something that's not there.”  
  
The redhead couldn’t help but to laugh and shake his head upon hearing that statement. “You have an interesting way of thinking.”  
  
“And so do you.”  
  
*  
  
“Doojoon ah!” Junhyung’s voice was boisterous, and he spoke into his mobile phone with enthusiasm. “’sup, buddy?”  
  
“Junhyung, hey.” The other man’s tone was in stark contrast to his best friend’s; Doojoon’s voice was dark and low, his words, hurried and anxious. “Have you seen Kikwang, by any chance?”  
  
Upon hearing that name, the redhead’s eyes widened almost at once. He quickly snapped his neck over towards Kikwang, who was there with him at one of CUBE’s many recording studios. The younger man was innocently amusing himself with the controls that were attached to the large mixer. A heavy lump had begun to form in Junhyung’s throat, and he swallowed it, with much difficulty, before croaking out “Kikwang?”  
  
The young man tore his attention away from the mixer, and he looked over at Junhyung, panic growing, steadily, behind his dark eyes: Doojoon was asking for him. He said not a word, but only continued to stare through fearful eyes at the older man.  
  
Junhyung, too, was at a loss for words, and he fumbled, dumbly, with an “Um...”  
  
Kikwang’s eyes immediately blew open, and he began to shake his head, frantically, mouthing the word, “No,” over and over.  
  
Junhyung paused for a moment before uttering another sound to Doojoon, remaining mindful of Kikwang’s presence. “N-No, I haven’t,” he spoke, flatly, after a short while. “Haven’t seen him all day.”  
  
“Really?” Doojoon was dispirited, and he looked about him in an air of loss and frustration. “What the hell—where is he? We were supposed to go out tonight, and I can’t get a hold of him.”  
  
“Oh,” was all Junhyung was able to say in reply. Kikwang sat, ever-consciously, at the stool in front of the mixer, staring apprehensively at the redhead near the door. “Well... I-I’m sure he’ll turn up,” Junhyung offered in solace.  
  
“I hope so. I’m getting kinda worried,” and this was most evident in Doojoon’s tone, as he ran a restless hand through his russet-coloured hair. Junhyung could almost see the frown that was settling, darkly, upon his best friend’s brow. “This isn’t like him at all.”  
  
Junhyung could only shrug in response. “I’m sure he’s okay,” he told the other man. “Maybe he’s asleep?”  
  
“Maybe,” Doojoon agreed with a sigh. It was then followed with a passive smirk. “I guess I’ll just have to get rid of these tickets. I was gonna take him to see Eddy J. He’s got a show tonight at The Gates.”  
  
And, suddenly, a distant smile overcame Junhyung. “He would’ve loved that, too,” he said.  
  
*  
  
This was insane— _he_  was insane. When did this happen, and was he not there when it did? Perhaps he could have ended it then, preventing it from ever happening in the first place. All of these questions, and more, grabbed at his wits, tugging and pulling in any which way. What remaining prudence he had left forced him to pull apart from the lips of the raven-haired man, breaking their kiss.  
  
“Kikwang ah,” Junhyung felt about for something to say, anything that could possibly revert what had just happened. He looked into the younger man’s dark eyes before telling him, almost reluctantly, to “stop. We can’t do this.”  
  
The crimson-haired man watched as the edges of Kikwang’s mouth curved downwards, just slightly, in a muted pout. “But I want to,” the younger man whispered, his voice hushed and pent with need. Those dark eyes of his did not once waver and were locked, almost desperately, with Junhyung’s.  
  
The older man’s breath caught in his throat for a second—just a second—and it only took that length of time for his gaze to travel down Kikwang’s sweetly-shaped face and rest upon luscious lips, full and supple. Before he could release that breath, he felt the softness of those lips upon his own, once more.  
  
The air began to feel rather heavy, the walls around him too close, his resolve much too thin. A small, secluded part of Junhyung’s mind could not believe that they were actually doing this. Of course, he would be lying to himself if he were to say that he didn’t find the raven-haired man attractive; however, he dared not move closer. The younger man was out of his reach and in the hold of another—his best friend, no doubt.  
  
He really must have been insane.  
  
But here the younger man was, now, all barricades broken and all defences asunder. The last residuals of Junhyung’s conscience slipped quietly beneath him, as he felt Kikwang’s mouth moving with his, pliant and yearning, almost begging. Those lush lips were pleading with Junhyung, as if to say, “please... please.”  
  
*  
  
“Hey...”  
  
Kikwang looked up from the shaggy fibres of the rug at their feet to the concerned look that had found its way onto his boyfriend’s face. The two were seated on one of Doojoon’s leather sofas, watching the television in a comfortable silence. The only problem with that, though, was that Doojoon appeared to be paying more attention to the screen than Kikwang was, and the distant look upon the younger man’s face was worrying to Doojoon.  
  
“You okay?” Doojoon asked, his voice roused with concern.  
  
Kikwang looked back at his boyfriend for a moment before forcing a casual smile. “Yeah.” His answer was uneasy—but he quickly bolstered it with a “Yeah, babe, of course.” He then leaned even closer to Doojoon to press a soft kiss upon the other man’s lips. He lingered there for a short while before kissing him again, his mouth assuring and insistent. A smile tugged at the edges of Kikwang’s lips, and it stayed there as he settled down into Doojoon, cuddling against the cotton t-shirt that clothed his boyfriend’s chest. “Why wouldn’t I be?” He inquired, innocuously.  
  
That same worried look was still wiring Doojoon’s face, as he held the younger man, a firm hand gently rubbing Kikwang’s arm. “You just seemed kinda quiet,” the older man replied. His words were calm and hushed.  
  
At that, Kikwang chuckled, lightly. He began to massage Doojoon’s thigh, tracing slow and playful circles. “Do I always have to be talking?” The raven-haired man asked in a teasing manner. “Can’t I just enjoy being here with you, Doojoon ah?”  
  
This seemed to relax Doojoon a bit, and soon afterwards, a smile began to soften his features. He leaned down and lost a kiss in the dark strands of Kikwang’s hair.  
  
*  
  
Junhyung knew exactly where to touch, where to kiss, the young man beneath him to make his body shudder and his head loll back, lips parted in a silent scream.  
  
“Junhyung ah...”  
  
Strands of the redhead’s hair skimmed across Kikwang’s exposed abdomen, and his tongue darted out, tasting the skin beneath him. He planted kisses along the well-toned torso, working his way back up to succulent, waiting lips. He devoured them, greedily, relishing in each sensual sound that left the younger man. Their bodies moved with and against one another, the friction between their heated skin so perfect, so deliciously sweet.  
  
The taste was still with Kikwang, as he made his way back to Doojoon, drunk and heady with the liqueur of the redhead’s lips. Perhaps he smiled a little too broadly, his step a little too flighty—but Doojoon assumed it to be part of the younger man’s outgoing nature. Doojoon smiled at his boyfriend, welcoming him in with a loving kiss and a movie rental.  
  
“Nice!” Kikwang’s eyes were bright, as they shone upon the movie case. “I’ve been meaning to see this one.”  
  
*  
  
Doojoon caught the elated look that had graced his boyfriend’s features once he looked upon the screen of his mobile phone. The expression was near impossible to miss; it was as if something had switched on within him, and it brightened his already striking face, causing him to almost glow. The younger man’s eyes roved across the small screen, the edge of his mouth curling upwards, ever so slightly.  
  
The older man raised an eyebrow at this, curious as to what had sparked Kikwang’s interest. “What’s got you all smiley?” He asked, as he lifted his coffee cup from the cafe table and brought it to his lips.  
  
It seemed as if Kikwang’s attention was actually capable of being penetrated, for he broke his gaze with the mobile screen and looked up at Doojoon sitting across from him, eyeing him, inquisitively. A strange glint moved about behind Kikwang’s eyes, and he parted his lips to speak.   
  
“No reason,” he replied, that teasing smile still dangling on the edge of his mouth. He dismissed the topic, playfully, with a “Junhyung’s just being an idiot.” His eyes slipped down towards the screen again, taking in the text message that had stolen his attention:  
  
_“I need to see you again.”_  
  
*  
  
He really should have felt more guilt over this, more shame. And he should have, after all, for those same lips that had spoken the words, “I love you, Kikwang ah,” were the same ones that had allowed him to catch the subway train to the opposite end of the city, saying, “Sure—and remind Junhyung that he still has my ‘Quiksilver’ game, will you, babe? He can’t keep it forever.”  
  
Indeed, they were the same ones that would call Junhyung up on his lunch break at work, chiding him: “Exactly when are you planning on giving back ‘Quiksilver’? It’s been, like, six months.”  
  
*  
  
Words no longer existed between them, for there was no time to speak them. They were running on borrowed time, and every second gone was a second wasted; thus, words had no place there. Their skin prickled with the knowledge of what needed to be done, and they made haste so that it was so. Junhyung opened the door, discreetly. Kikwang stepped inside. The door shut, politely.   
  
And so it would start.  
  
*  
  
Junhyung watched from the bed, a sheet thrown across his legs, haphazardly, as Kikwang pulled his jeans back up to rest upon his hips. The younger man had a truly impressive body, one that the redhead just loved to admire. Kikwang’s back was turned to him, as he went about gathering his clothing, and Junhyung leaned back on his arms, musing upon the way in which the muscles in Kikwang’s back rippled beneath the smooth skin. They were strong yet delicate, monstrous but beautiful. These contradictions were enticing to the older man, and he found his gaze trailing upwards, towards the inviting curve of the younger man’s neck.  
  
And Junhyung was never one to turn down an invitation. Smirking, he rose from the bed, in all of his naked glory, and glided his way over to Kikwang, embracing the young man from behind. Kikwang was a little startled by this—but quickly eased into Junhyung, as he felt that wicked tongue slide itself, mercilessly, against the sensitive skin of his neck. A small groan bubbled out from the younger man’s throat, and he smiled a bit, as he felt Junhyung’s hands gently caress his sides.  
  
“Junhyung ah,” Kikwang whined, softly, “stop—I have to go.”  
  
“No, you don’t,” the redhead responded, punctuating his insistence with an ardent kiss on the younger man’s shoulder.  
  
Kikwang couldn’t help but smile, and he secretly cursed the other man, for he could feel his erection coming back again. He groaned in defiance, yet he revealed more of his neck to Junhyung’s coveting lips. “Yes, I do,” he told him with much difficulty. He paused for a short moment before saying “Doojoon’s waiting for me.”  
  
This statement was enough to cease the kisses pulsing, idly, along his neck—and Kikwang silently cursed that, as well. He wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination, but he could have sworn that he felt Junhyung tense up behind him—or maybe he was just imagining things. It was quiet between the two of them for several moments until Junhyung’s voice broke the silence.  
  
“Has he said anything?” Junhyung’s tone was careful but probing.  
  
Kikwang shook his head, quietly. “No, he hasn’t,” he said through a sigh. “I don’t think he knows at all.”  
  
A frown settled upon the older man’s lips upon hearing those words. “How can he not know?” He asked in incredulity. “If I was him, I would’ve caught onto this by now. At least a little. Either you’re really good at this, or he must really love you...”   
  
This statement brought forth a stark revelation. And it caused the redhead's voice to dim, somewhat, hinted with a desolate fusion of anger and sadness.   
  
“And I know he does,” Junhyung murmured into the warm skin on Kikwang's shoulder.  
  
*  
  
The blinds are closed to mere slivers, allowing just a touch of moonlight to filter through the cracks. The bedroom is quiet, save for the sound of Doojoon’s lips leaving tender kisses along Kikwang’s neck. Normally, the younger man would be relishing in this, drinking it all in. It would fill and fuel him, but tonight, he feels rather empty.  
  
The fervent lips at his neck, the wandering caress at his waist—they should make him feel something, make him  _feel_. But he just can’t seem to. His boyfriend’s touch is all but foreign to him, now, his voice some far-off memory. Doojoon seems so far away, despite the fact that he is within a finger’s reach. What should be sharply in focus is now blurred and smudged. Tainted. He knows it is Doojoon there—but merely by habit, alone. He cannot distinguish his face or anything else, and Kikwang feels sadness over this. In his heart of hearts, he wishes he could see him.  
  
Those warm kisses were no longer, as Doojoon slowly rises from the crook of the raven-haired man’s neck. His gaze finds its way to Kikwang’s face, and Doojoon instantly takes in the weary, distant look in the young man’s eyes. He is not looking at Doojoon. The older man frowns.  
  
“Kikwang ah,” he begins in a hushed tone, laced with worry, “is everything okay?”  
  
The younger man looks up at him, as if being snapped out of some sort of trance. After registering the features on Doojoon’s face, he quickly forces a smile and lets out a nervous chuckle.  
  
“S-Sorry,” is Kikwang’s apology, faint and unsure. His eyelids close for a couple of seconds, and he shakes his head, lightly. “I’m just... I-I’m a little tired.”  
  
Doojoon stops for a moment, viewing the young man in front of him with great concern, before gently wrapping his arms around him, cocooning him in warmth. “We don’t have to do this, now, if you’re tired,” Doojoon whispers to him, his tone soft and caring. “We can just go to sleep if you want.”  
  
A weak smile is upon Kikwang’s lips, his head buried into the older man’s bare chest. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Sleep sounds pretty good.”  
  
Doojoon kisses his boyfriend’s forehead, and Kikwang closes his eyes, feeling the kiss. But the younger man can’t help but to wince, inwardly—it almost hurts.  
  
The two of them disentangle from one another, only to do so once more, as they lay down onto the large bed, Doojoon embracing Kikwang from behind. The older man closes his eyes. Kikwang stares at the digital clock on the nightstand, much too tired to even fall asleep.  
  
***


End file.
